Bessie blushed, as becomes the Englishwoman of mature years when she is gracefully supposed to be ignorant of all it most behoves her to know. ‘Well, well; he is on the point of marrying a young person with whom I should certainly not like my daughter to associate—fortunately there is little chance of that. You were never acquainted with Miss Hewett?’ ‘Ye—yes. A long time ago.’ ‘Well, well; we must be charitable. You know that she is dreadfully disfigured?’ ‘Disfigured? Jane didn’t say a word about that. She only told me that Mr. Kirkwood was going to marry her, and I didn’t like to ask too many questions. I hadn’t even heard as she was at home.’ Joseph related to her the whole story, whilst Bessie fidgeted with satisfaction. ‘I thought,’ he added, ‘that you could perhaps throw some light on the mystery. We can only suppose that Kirkwood has acted from the highest motives, but I really think—well, well, we won’t talk of it any more. I was led to this subject from speaking of this poor girl’s position. I wonder whether it will be possible for her to continue to live in your friendly care Mrs. Byass?’ ‘Oh, I shall be only too glad, Mr. Snowdon!’ ‘Now how kind that is of you! Of course she wouldn’t want more than two rooms.’ ‘Of course not.’ Joseph was going further into details, when a latch-key was heard opening the front door. Jane entered hurriedly. The rapid walk had brought colour to her check; in her simple mourning attire she looked very interesting, very sweet and girlish. She had been shedding tears, and it was with unsteady voice that she excused herself for keeping her father waiting. ‘Never mind that, my dear,’ replied Joseph, as he kissed her cheek. ‘You have been doing good—unselfish as always. Sit down and rest; you must be careful not to over-exert yourself.’